Page 28 of Challenge Me

I inhaled sharply.

The handle brushed higher.

My thighs parted without being told.

Ghost noticed, and his blue eyes brightened. The end of the handle pressed against me, and my entire body tightened.

“Is that a hint?” I hissed through my teeth. “You want me to test those on you—Ah!”

I covered my mouth as he pushed the cold handle of the tool into me, my body tensing around it.

How strange; Ghost always seemed to me to be an old cowboy, a conservative type. Then again, it was always the conservative types who were utter freaks when no one was watching.

Ghost’s smile turned predatory.

The metal pressed inward.

I gripped the edge of his frame, urging my body to relax as the spanner slid into me all the way to its head. My muscles resisted at first, clamping hard around the unfamiliar shape. I shifted awkwardly, my body adjusting to accommodate twelve inches of metal, the cold pressure slowly morphing into fullness. The sensation remained unmistakably metallic.

Heavy. Cool. Unyielding.

I forced myself to breathe.

The pressure spread slowly through me, stretching from sharp discomfort into something denser and more consuming. The metal seemed to steal the heat from my body, warming inside of me, taking on my temperature until it felt less like a foreign object and more like part of Ghost.

My breath came unevenly.

Ghost withdrew it barely an inch. The drag of the metal made my stomach clench.

Then he pushed it back inside.

A moan escaped me, lower and more helpless than the first.

Ghost’s hand tightened over my hip. He worked the wrench deeper until the weight settled heavily inside me. I could feel every small movement of his wrist. Each shift changed the pressure; he searched through me until the metal brushed somewhere, making my vision flash white. My body jerked, and Ghost stilled.

“There?”

I refused to answer.

He pressed the same place again.

My knees nearly buckled, and Ghost laughed. “There.”

Before I could recover, another cold object touched me.

I looked down. Another tool gleamed in Ghost’s hand, already coated with grease.

“You cannot possibly–”

“This one is a socket wrench. We use it for…” He explained as my mind went blank and I found myself pushing back, grinding against another steel rod. They weren’t small, cheap tools one might have in their utility closet; no, they were both at least two-fingers thick and heavy, too. I clenched, holding onto them.

“Are you listening?” Ghost asked, his lips caressing my thigh.

I nodded, holding my breath, far too focused on the steel inside me to remember how to exhale.

The initial stretch bordered on overwhelming. My body tightened around the wrench already inside me, making every attempt to take more feel impossible. Ghost slowed, working the metal in. His thumb rubbed small circles against my hip.

Metal clicked faintly against metal inside me. The two handles filled me, one pressed deep and heavy, while the other moved with shorter, more precise strokes. I pushed backward. I didn’t mean to, but my body followed the pressure, chasing each movement as Ghost moved both tools together. My mouth fell open, but no sound emerged at first.